Broadripple Is Burning
by oderzhimost
Summary: Not every day the Dixon brothers find a girl floating down river with a gun shot wound to the head. Not every day Daryl finds himself becoming obsessed. :: Companion fic to my one shot Girl With Golden Eyes ::
1. Chapter 1

**This will be the final stop for the actual story for my one shot, _Girl With Golden Eyes_. It was given to **_FloodFeSTeR_ **but she has informed me that she can no longer keep up with it on account of her many fic's in need of attention (you can find her on AO3 now as well for more steamy and...moral questioning stories xD).**

 **I will take up the story now, as originally intended, and the chapters she had up are going through editing so this will be updated with similar work until I catch up with where she left off.**

 **Changes to canon:** _Merle lives, will follow the plot of S4 and S5 with my own twists, obviously._

 **Leave those precious and coveted reviews, fav's and follows!**

* * *

screaming is what troubles her the most.

Or is it the stain on the edge of an otherwise pristine carpet?

The metal frame of the bed digs into her spine, a stark contrast to the thin mattress holding up her head; no point on a pillow, she can never get comfortable.

Her right hand is in her lap, shaking...she lifts her left hand, running it flat inches from her face; chin to hairline. Her lips part involuntarily and she tentatively tastee the copper dotting her lips. It is cold; congealed, old.

She hears the screaming again, louder this time. She lets her hand drop back into her lap. It smears the blood sprayed there, tears through dried clots, forcing a shiver through her aching muscles.

"I'm scared," she whispers.

 _"Yer 'live," he says oh-so gruffly_.

Why is he so cold? Then again, she's not exactly warm. It's too cold in here. Concrete. It holds no warmth, no help to the sun stretching through the windows so high up.

"I'm alone," she whispers, her voice starting to crack.

" _Neva alone, Esther_."

His voice is barely above a whisper and it makes her brow furrow. She lolls her head towards him, jaw cracking as she opens it to speak. But he isn't _there_. Of course he isn't there, he hadn't been for awhile; the question is, how long was he gone this time?

"Silent," she mutters, stumbling to her feet. "Silent..." She approaches the cell door; locked. "Silent...," shd pushes against the door, fingers wrapped around the bars. "Silent...silent... _silent_!"

Her voice echoes. Against concrete, against blood, mattresses, against a crumpled box with the words _Lil Ass Kicker_ scrawled on the side. She pushes on the bars again, getting more forceful; a scream grows from the back of her throat, starting small, getting louder and louder until - _**pop**_!

She's screaming and kicking, ramming the bars of her cell, kicking apart a small nightstand in the corner. Her vision blurs, reality clicking like it does ever-so-often. The carpet is stained beyond repair, the cell block is far too quiet, there isn't even a breeze outside to howl against the walls.

She slows as she notice the polaroid of a certain hunter and herself crumpling beneath her right boot. Her heart aches and she hurriedly saves it from her tantrum; reality slowly dislodges itself again inside of her, she knows that. She hears boots again, and she thinks they're actually there.

But she stares at the picture, hear the confusion, and her hands are shaking; she's pretty sure the pinkie on her right hand is broken. Her back hits the bars. She hit the floor. Her knees curl to her chest. She grips the photo tight, press it hard against her forehead as her whole body trembles.

"I'm scared...scared...scared..."

 _"He's just...gone..."_

 _ **No**_ _._


	2. Chapter 2

Daryl never usually let Merle go with him during his trips hunting since joining the people at the quarry, but the asshole insisted. He didn't know why he wanted to come and Daryl didn't really care. He just wanted him to go away.

 **Forever**.

"All 'im sayin' is that blonde may be a bitch," Merle paused, taking a drag from a sweat stained cigarette. "But they usually a freak in the sack. All that pent up frustration, take it out on ya and it's a peach."

Daryl groaned. "Merle! Shut the fuck up."

"Ho ho ho," Merle grinned, swaying in front of Daryl, raising a musty eyebrow. "Sounds like ol Darylina has a kink in 'er britches."

Daryl growled, ready to knock his older brother upside the head with his crossbow, but then he saw the stream up ahead. It was pristine and beautiful, though he wouldn't admit it out loud and that wasn't his main reason for examining it a little closer than he usually did. There was a medium sized waterfall dumping into the spring and he could have sworn he had just seen a body float through there. Walkers didn't look that clean, or look like they were trying to fight the current.

Daryl pushed Merle out of his way, gaining a grunt and a few words thrown at him that he would usually respond to with his own. But there was a girl in the water, floating face up in almost-new clothing. He dropped his crossbow and hurried to the waters edge, reaching waist deep and scooping the girl into his arms. Her clothing made her heavy and he finally had to drop her on the water's edge and finish dragging her by her arms. Her hair covered her face, her body still warm but growing cold fast.

"Th' hell did she come from," Merle mutters; after a moment, he sighs. "S'pose I should go get Rick."

Daryl shook his head, getting to his knees beside her. "Not yet…"

* * *

 _Hold my hand..._

Her eyes open slowly, blinking away a haze as her vision fights to settle.

 _It's a long way down..._

Fingers grasp her chin, something closes over her mouth. A suction. Something rolls at the back of her throat; it itches, close to burning. Her eyes widen and it rushes from her mouth. As she tilts to her right, water floods her nostrils, her tongue. She hacks up enough to clear her head, allow her to breath and she looks around.

Mid-afternoon. The sun is straining against the thick canopy of oak and pine threaded above her head. She wipes at her chin, pushes against fresh nettles she lays on. She doesn't quite make it to her feet, instead she collapses on shaking limbs.

"God damn," she hears and finds a man knelt to her left, catches his eyes and he rubs away a trickle of water from his lips.

There is man further off behind him, taking slow sips from a flask in his hand; he only has one. She stares at them, hands braced behind her, and then she lets another torrent of water draw from her mouth. It flows down her front and the man with one hand lets out a garbled snort, caught up in his drink.

"Hey," the man knelt to her snaps his fingers in front of her face, drawing her attention. "Ya 'lright?"

It takes her a moment but she finally nods. He sighs and grabs the crossbow at his side, swaying to his feet; he holds out a hand and she takes it, shivering from the cold. She wraps her arms around herself, rubbing with her hands for just a _little_ friction.

"Ya almost drowned," the man speaks, pointing up. "Ya come from there?"

Her eyes follow his attention and she sees a rather steep incline that leads right into the pool of water she must have been floating in. There is blood still lingering around the surface and her heart flutters, fingers searching for a wound. She grunts as her fingers trace a long, jagged, gash that connects her right temple to her ear; it stings with pressure and she leaves it be, feeling awkward. Lost.

"Names Daryl," he grunts then points with one hand. "Ma brother Merle."

"Hi there," Merle grins, shoving his flask into his back pocket. "What's your name?"

It takes her a moment before it bursts through a hazy cloud. "Esther," she mutters. "My name is Esther."

"Sound unsure," Daryl twists, looks ready to run.

Why should he? Just a girl he found floating face down in the middle of the woods. No biggey.

She shakes her head a little, obviously disgruntled. "I am..."

He can't help it; she sounds so sad and...well, he won't admit he's a sucker. "Why?"

She looks between the men, eyes lingering on Daryl the most; she notes the softness of his eyes and stirs. "I...I don't remember..."

"Don' remember your name," Merle snorts.

"No," she pouts then that sinks. "I don't remember...well, anything."

Daryl lets out a breath, Merle looks to him; what now? "Nothin'?"

She nods then stops, shakes her head fiercely. "Most things..."

Right, because _that_ made it better.

* * *

"So….she doesn't remember anything?"

Daryl shook his head, leaning against the brick outside the door to their cell block. "Think she got shot…"

Merle is seated with her on a bench near the gate, looking over the wound on her face with Hershel at his side. They are saying something but are too far for Daryl to catch anything. Rick shakes his head a little, looking over at the young girl. She nods when Hershel lets go of her chin, looking over at Daryl; she doesn't look away until Daryl grows uncomfortable enough to move.

"What're we gonna do with her?"

Rick shakes his head, rubs the back of his neck. "I suppose…we can take her in. Though, she will need to be evaluated. I need to talk to Hershel and Merle about her first, see if she really doesn't remember anything. If she's dangerous."

Daryl nodded just as Hershel hobbled up, still getting used to his artificial leg. "The girl seems confused. Very confused," he seemed conflicted. "The wound appears to be artificial but it has damaged some part of her ability to retain memories. From what we observed in a brief test, details flit in and out. I can't be positive on my conclusion but I am _sure_ that her memories will come back to her in time."

Rick sighed. "So…I guess whenever she recovers her memory, we can debate if she has earned her keep and then…decide her fate. We can't send her out there when she doesn't even know who she really is."

The three of them nodded then looked up, hearing her laughing and Merle looking more smug than usual; Daryl rolled his eyes, kicking off the wall. As he approached, Esther looked over at him, the corners of her eyes still crinkled in laughter. Merle cleared his throat, standing from his seat and deciding now to walk away. The small girl stood, her black hair still wet and clinging to the bones of her shoulder blades.

"Merle said I'm staying," she chirped.

Daryl glared over his shoulder, seeing Merle waving at him from beside Rick and now Carol, who was watching Esther and Daryl with curious, wide eyes. He looked back down at the girl and saw her still smiling.

"What?"

Her eyes crinkled just a little more. She took a step closer to him and pressed up, her lips tenderly meeting his cheek and then she took a step back, clasping her hands behind her back. "I just…thank you for saving me. Most people wouldn't these days, I know that much."

He stared at her for a long moment, his throat twisted. "No problem," he muttered gruffly. "Merle was right, our leader, Rick, says you can stay until you recover your memories."

Something sparkled in her eyes. "I-I _will_ regain them?"

Daryl nodded once. "Yeah, that's what Hershel said. We'll get you set up with a spot in one of the cell blocks. If we don' have any room, you can bunk in ours. Not for long though."

Esther nodded fiercely. "That sounds great…I'm just happy you're all willing to let me into your home until I recover… _whatever_ it was I lost."

Daryl sighed, watching her almost prance towards the others, giving Rick a hug and letting Merle lead her with a laugh towards the back of the courtyard. He looked up, watching the pine trees sway in the wind and reached up, rubbing where her lips had left a wet mark on his skin.

 _Well...shit._


End file.
